Lifecycle of a 1960s Eko jumbo acoustic guitar

The guitar that I couldn’t give away is taking up some of my time nowadays. It’s a 60s jumbo acoustic Eko. Here’s the story:

A GARAGE sale crowd shuffles through a house in the Sydney inner western suburb of Petersham on a rainy Saturday morning in the late 1980s.
The vendor seems to be selling up and moving out in a hurry. A stocky man with long curly hair and maybe in his 30s, he is pacing around the house and attending to the swarm of buyers.
The terrace-style house is on the edge of the Italian precinct of Leichhardt and the Portuguese belt of Petersham and he speaks with an accent that suggests mediterranean heritage.
Racial origins are important to this story because it is about an Italian-made guitar that is the subject of one of the shortest conversations that day.
I ask, "How much?" He replies, "Two dollars." I hurriedly sift through coins in my left palm, drop the $2 into his hand, say "thank you" and leave as quickly as I can, trying not to seem too keen in case he reconsiders and wants the guitar back or more money.

THE guitar has a severe ding in the back and rattles, the sort of injury that suggests a swing when held by the neck and the impact of the body on a solid object.
Such a wound is a fairly common symptom of relationship tensions. It always makes one wonder whether the solid object was a head.
However, any head in the way of this guitar would be unlikely to think clearly again.
The 1960s Eko is one of the heavyduty items in the guitar army’s strike force. You could rewrite the "built like a tank" cliché and substitute "Eko".
Angled struts criss-cross under the solid timber soundboard. The whole guitar is coated with an incredibly thick epoxy type finish. It is heavy.

THE term "Italianate", sometimes with a connotation of extreme attention to detail, serves the Eko well.
The thickness of the finish can be seen in the chips from the edges. The final clear coat is about 1mm thick.
Behind the 50mm ding in this one, a split strut hangs loosely. The nut is missing.
Several weeks after the acquisition I repair the damage by using clamping systems that I have devised over the years.
The interior damage calls for the vitamin-bottle system. This involves using the screw top lids to exert pressure between the front and the back.
The threaded lids, in conjunction with a chock or two, top or bottom, allow a precise height adjustment. Sometimes a chock must be put on the bottom with double-sided tape to allow the device to be placed accurately in awkward positions, maybe deep inside the guitar. Other times, the chock may be taped to the guitar instead.

WORKING in such confines is difficult. You need a pen or small torch and a small mirror (a dental mirror is ideal) to inspect the interior. Barbecue tongs can help in the inspection and subsequent manoeuvring. Consider all sorts of small grabbing and holding mechanism – crocodile clips, clothing pegs, long-nosed pliers, kitchen utensils … mix and match and commandeer anything you can think of to suit the individual problem.
A hard hit has detached the Eko’s centre strut on one side but the other side has held tightly. Part of the strut has split away totally. It’s all fixable.

Story to be continued. Watch this site for more on the $2 guitar that in years to come I couldn’t give away. And that was just my good luck.